An Unexpected Message
by one.twilight.sun
Summary: Storyline from "Eye of the Needle" Season One.  Telek R'Mor died before he could pass on messages from Voyager.  But it was forgotten he had someone to carry on his mission. And there was only one man who these could be given to.


_Storyline from "Eye of the Needle" Season 1. The Romulan Telek R'Mor died before he could relay the messages from the Voyager crew to Starfleet. It was thought that these would never be delivered. But it was forgotten that Telek had someone else to carry on his mission…_

**An Unexpected Message**

Admiral Owen Paris eyed the young woman seated in front of his desk, her olive-colored hands clasped tightly on her lap, protecting something in her hold. Her dark eyes firmly met his pale blue eyes, obviously determined not to show weakness in front of a Starfleet officer, her shoulders held straight, chin up; every inch proclaiming loudly that she was proudly of the Romulan Empire. Every inch, that was, except for those nervous hands, their grasp so tight together, her knuckles had turned white.

His morning had started fairly ordinary—up at 0600, his usual jog around the quad, breakfast at 0630 and at his office by 0700 where he was met by his assistant who relayed various messages that had come in, alerted him to any priority reports to go over and reminded him of his schedule for the day. Then at about 0900, Hickens had called in to his office to let him know that a Romulan was here to see him on _personal_ business and refused to give her name. Owen wasn't normally the type to be taken by surprise, but this unexpected visitor was definitely surprising.

She had come into his office much the same way she was sitting now, proud but those telltale hands gave away some anxiety. It was obvious she was holding onto something tightly. He had yet to find out what it was. He wasn't particularly worried about that something being dangerous but all the same, he reminded himself of the phaser attached to the underside of his desktop.

He had risen to meet her as she came in and sat down at his desk and he now sat behind it, his hands folded casually on top of his desk, looking relaxed but alert. She hadn't said a word except to greet him with a respectful "Admiral".

"To what do I owe this visit…?," he said, leaving his question open-ended bccause he didn't know her name, a hint of reprimand in his voice but not as harsh as he normally could be. He felt congenial this morning, luckily for her.

"Apologies, Admiral," the girl stated sincerely. Owen couldn't think of her as any older than his son, whom he still thought of as a boy. The thought of Tom brought a tightness to his chest that he didn't need right now. _Voyager _had been missing for over a year now, his son with it. Search parties had come up with nothing, no evidence of the ship's destruction, no readings that could lead in any direction; nothing in the Badlands and its surrounding sectors. It brought to mind the 20th century figure of Amelia Earhart who had disappeared without a trace in the Bermuda Triangle.

"My name is," she hesitated, the first sign of uncertainty, other than what was shown with her hands, hitting her eyes, "Mizra R'Mor." Again a pause, as if the name would have significance to Owen. He kept himself still, waiting for her to continue. "My father was Telek R'Mor, of the Romulan Astrophysical Academy." Her eyes briefly closed and when they opened, Owen could see pain in her eyes, that brief tightness in his chest that had appeared a moment ago echoed in her look. "He passed away five years ago."

"I'm sorry for your loss." The words were genuine, the girl visibly still affected by the death of her father.

She nodded in acknowledgement and she took a deep breath, settling nerves or swallowing her grief, he wasn't sure, but he was certain that her black eyes had glanced over at the small picture of his son Tom that sat on his desk. Why that momentary look was significant, he didn't know but he suddenly knew that her visit had something to do with his lost son. That quiet feeling known as hope took seed in his heart and though he knew there was no basis in fact, he could not help it.

"There was some upheaval following my father's death between some of his siblings and my mother and I so his estate was not reconciled until recently. As part of the inheritance I received, there was a small package that contained two separate message chips. One of them was this," she reached across the desk to hand him a tiny data transfer chip.

He turned to his comm screen to plug it into the slot, giving her a questioning look to make sure that this is what she meant for him to do. She nodded encouragingly. As he snapped the chip fully into place, his comm screen went dark for a moment and then an older Romulan man's face appeared on the screen, his features careworn, jet black hair faded to gray. The man seemed not to realize for a moment that the message had started recording; he was caught up in trying to catch his breath in a visibly painful movement. Owen caught the girl's flinch at the corner of his eye.

After a moment, the man turned to the screen. "Hello, Mizra-ki, my daughter." The love in the man's voice, Telek's voice, was evident. "If you are watching this recording, it means that I have passed away before I was able to fulfill an extraordinary mission given to me almost twenty years ago. It also means that I will not be there to see you reach your majority.." Mizra brought a hand up to her face to wipe away a tear. The Admiral pretended not to notice.

"The year is 2366 and I have just found out that I will probably not live to see the next year out. I made a promise 15 years ago that I want to make sure is carried through. I have not told anyone what I am about to tell you, Mizra-ki, and I ask that you not reveal this to anyone until you have fulfilled the promise.

"In 2351, the year you were born, I was on a deep space science mission for the Empire. I had been out for a year at that time and it would be another two years before I would return home. I came across an ancient wormhole that proved to be of interest in its slow state of decay." The man had taken on a faraway look, his deep voice and it's lilting accent drawing Owen into the story, despite himself.

"I thought that the wormhole was too small for anything significant to travel through it. However, in one of my scans, I came across a microprobe that had gotten stuck in one of the denser eddies of this wormhole. This scan apparently alerted whoever had launched the microprobe on the _other _side of the wormhole because I soon found myself receiving hails." His eyes came back to focus on the camera, the black eyes sparked with some remembered excitement. "The hails were from Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Starship _Voyager_ ."

Owen stopped the recording. The young woman glanced at him in concern. He turned to her, his blue eyes blazing. "This doesn't make any sense! In 2366, _Voyager _hadn't been launched, in fact it had _just_ been commissioned to be _built_. I don't know how your government's intelligence could've found out about it so quickly." He was angry; he was being played the fool and he did not appreciate it.

Instead of reacting back, Mizra leaned forward to place a gentle hand on his arm. "Sir, please, just listen to what my father has to say. I know it's incredulous but I think once you hear the full story, you'll understand." Owen always knew he was a shrewd judge of character and he saw the sincerity in her eyes and felt himself calm. He nodded and turned back to the recording.

"In responding to the hails, I learned that this starship was on the other side of the galaxy, in the Delta Quadrant." Owen's breath was sucked out of him. The Delta Quadrant, the most unknown and furthest territory to Starfleet. How the hell had they gotten stuck over there?

Telek went on to describe his own disbelief in finding out _Voyager_'s predicament and how he had eventually been convinced by Captain Janeway of the truth. Owen smiled at that. Kathryn had always been, in Owen's estimation, a very persuasive sort.

Telek and the _Voyager _crew had made forward advancements in wormhole physics by transporting a test cylinder back and forth between _Voyager _and Telek's vessel via the microprobe in the anomaly. When Telek described the circumstances and conditions of the wormhole including the various spatial distortions present that had to be taken into account in the transporting, Owen's respect for Janeway's crew grew.

Then someone, a B'Elanna Torres—who if Owen recalled correctly was part of the _Maquis _ship that Kathryn had been tracking down—had the idea of transporting a person to see if they could get the crew back home. Owen was still confused on this point as Telek was going over people and situations that, as of his stardate, hadn't happened yet.

This confusion was cleared up as Telek continued his story. As the crew found out, it would be impossible to use the wormhole to transport the crew back home because Telek was in a different time frame than that of the _Voyager_ itself—Telek being in 2351 and those in the Delta Quadrant being in 2371. Owen could only imagine the disappointment those lone Starfleet officers must have felt upon finding this out. In the end, Captain Janeway asked Telek to deliver messages from the _Voyager _crew to their families when it was 2371.

"I had wanted to send a message to Starfleet earlier, to warn them against sending _Voyager _on its ill-fated mission, but," the man's mouth moved into a slight smile, "the Captain wanted to stick to protocol, the Temporal Prime Directive. Though I don't know how she expected me to send the messages without violating some part of it, but, I respected the woman and so I have followed her wishes. I want you to do so as well." He fixed a stern gaze to the screen for a moment. "When the year is 2371, stay alert for any news of a Starfleet vessel named _Voyager_ mysteriously disappearing. When that time comes, please get these messages delivered to the Starfleet officer concerned with finding the ship." Having delivered the message he meant to deliver, Telek seemed to deflate into his seat, his breath wheezing, his stern visage softening. "Know this, Mizra-ki, I love you and your mother though I am leaving you at so young an age. I trust you to see this through for me." He looked at the screen for a moment longer and then ended the transmission.

The Admiral took a moment to take in the news that his only son and a valuable Starfleet crew was on the other side of the galaxy. He thought back to all those times he lectured his family and more specifically Tom on Starfleet's General Order #1, its Prime Directive of which the Temporal Prime Directive was a sub-directive. And, in one of the very few moments in his life, he wished that it didn't exist. Telek would've told Starfleet before _Voyager _was launched into the Badlands and Owen wouldn't be sitting here at a loss with his wife distraught at home.

Mizra stood up and placed the second green computer chip on his desk. "These are the messages from the _Voyager _crew. I didn't look at them so I don't know who the crew are but if you could please see that they are delivered to the right people." He didn't move to take the chip and just looked at her. She gave him a tight nod and moved towards the door.

"How did you find me?" The question came out unexpectedly. Owen knew that one could find that a strange question considering that he was a prominent Starfleet officer but that wasn't what he meant and Mizra understood what he was asking.

She paused from activating the door and turned back to him. "I heard about the search parties you were instrumental in sending out to fine _Voyager _when it disappeared. I then learned that your son, Tom Paris, was on board and I knew that you would be the right person to get these to."

"But that data on _Voyager _is still classified."

For the first time since she had walked into his office, she suddenly exhibited a confidence that made her seem older than she was and an amused light came to her eyes. "At an early age, my father groomed me to be in the best position to help deliver these messages from _Voyager—_something I didn't realize until I saw that transmission. I'm the protégé of the head of Romulan Intelligence." And with that she stepped out of the room.

Owen sat back and gave a little chuckle. He thought about alerting Security but for some reason, a part of him said that he could trust her. At least for now.

He looked at the green chip on his desk and reached out to turn it over in his hand. He replaced Telek's with it. The screen blinked back to life and showed the list of crew who had recorded messages for their loved ones. His hand shook a bit as he scrolled down the names, afraid that he might not find one from Tom but also afraid that he might. The computer flashed, "TOM PARIS TO ADMIRAL PARIS." He hesitated and then opened it.

The words were replaced by the familiar and yet unfamiliar face of his son. His throat felt tight as he met the eyes of his son whom he hadn't seen since the trial which sent Tom to prison.

"Hey Fath—Dad." Tom smiled a self-deprecating smile that Owen wished the boy didn't have. "I figure by now you realize that something went wrong on _Voyager's _maiden voyage and took your black sheep son with it." Tom looked away from the screen and after a short moment, looked back, his blue eyes serious. "No," he said to no one in particular, "I only have a minute allotted to me and I'm not going to waste it, Dad. I know that we're not on particularly good terms at the moment and I know that I've given you trouble in the past and to be honest, you've given me trouble. But we're family and if it takes 75 years to get back from the Delta Quadrant, I don't want our relationship to end on bad terms. The Captain says she'll get us back and I believe in her, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm trying to come to grips with our relationship and I just want to see if you could do the same." His face lightened a bit. "Tell Mom and the girls that I love them."

The screen went dark and Owen was left with a reflection of himself, tears burning behind his eyes. Carefully and slowly he brought his large hands up to hide his eyes, the weight of his hands somehow enough to keep his control in check. He stayed that way for several minutes, letting the quiet of his office replace the solemn words from his son.

Those several minutes were enough for him to realize that he could sit there and despair over the situation, regret everything he had ever said to Tom, wish that he could've done things differently or he could do something about it, to help his son and the rest of the Voyager crew know that there was a group still here for them, who believed in them and who could help them find a faster way home. His hands fell away from his face and he turned his gaze towards the window, the morning light streaming in, the Communications Research Tower just visible behind another building. Yes, he _could_ do something about it.

* * *

_3 months later…_

Owen stood in front of the neat and precise lines of Starfleet officers standing at ease in front of him. He took in the red and gold flashes of their uniforms, the competence exuding from them, and then moved his gaze up to the room at large—the large screen dominating one wall, the schematics present on various work stations, the various communications equipment that would be used for this unique project. He felt that small seed of hope that had been planted months before blossom.

His gaze returned to the officers who would be working on something that was close to his heart as well as that of many other people, and spoke the next words that would define their lives for the years to come.

"Welcome to Project Pathfinder."

oOo


End file.
